


Darts

by lighthouse_at_sea



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Autistic Julian Bashir, Darts, Episode: s05e16 Doctor Bashir I Presume, Friendship, Gen, Richard Bashir's A+ Parenting, like it says in the title because i'm not creative
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:06:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23404990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lighthouse_at_sea/pseuds/lighthouse_at_sea
Summary: "And if that doesn't work, we'll get a blindfold."A retelling of Miles being a good friend.
Relationships: Julian Bashir & Miles O'Brien
Comments: 34
Kudos: 125





	Darts

**Author's Note:**

> I just loved Miles' immediate reaction to finding out Julian had been lying about his abilities and could have easily won. He didn't say they'd have to stop playing, he just figured out a way to even the game and make it fun and challenging for both of them.

"Julian!"

Julian drew a tight smile and continued to look at the screen. There had to be something about these protein structures that he was missing.

"There you are! Didn't you hear me calling."

"I did."

"Well. Alright. I was just wondering…"

"No more racquetball, please."

Julian turned his chair to face his friend. It was rude to not show that he was paying attention. Miles was leaning against the doorway and looking as sad and hopeful as ever. Julian was happy that Keiko was having a good time on Bajor, but he must have played a hundred games since she had left! Well, 106. A hundred and six. The atomic number of seaborgium. Now if he used a tracer program, he might be able to locate binding sites before in-situ hybridization took place.

"I know, I know. I remember you saying you wanted a break from that. And I've got just the thing."

Julian smiled and raised his eyebrows.

"Darts."

"Really? There's a darts game? There was a dart pen in my holonovel, "Empty Instinct." Dr. Adderson had seen right through my disguise as the hotel's concierge, but luckily, I had also seen through hers. I was showing her to her room, and she asked if I want to join her. It didn't work as fast as a hypo, but she was out before she'd even ordered champagne. The chip had ended up being in her suitcase's false bottom, but I only had three tries to get the code right."

"Whoa, don't spoil it all!" the chief chuckled.

"Sorry!" Julian's eyes went wide. "If you're interested in a spy holonovel, I have a few that are two for players?"

"I'm still working through "Battles of Northern Europe," but maybe after. Now, I've got a dart board and steel-tipped darts with our names on 'em. I'll teach you the rules. You in?"

"Chief, you know I can't say no when you look at me like that."

* * *

"Ha!" Miles grunted, smirking at the dart that had barely landed on the board, nestled against one of the flashing lights.

Julian squinted at the dart board propped up among the cargo containers.

"The racquetball menace may have finally met his match. You know, it's alright if you're not amazing at it on your first go. Go on, go on."

"Yes, I know," Julian commented, glancing down at his feet and trying to position them in a better way. 

The next dart did much better, hitting 11 inner ring. Treble. Miles sighed internally. He had spoken too soon. He readjusted himself again. This crate of Bajoran glass cleaner was going to kill his back. Whoa! He sprang up as Julian's next dart went sailing over the crates.

"Oh my god, sorry! I'll go find it!"

Miles watched as Julian took off at a light jog around the crates.

It had taken a minute, but Julian was successful and made it back to watch Miles take his turn.

Single 18, single 8, and inner single 3.

Back to Julian, and Miles tried not to feel too smug when, once again, Julian could barely hit the board.

On and on it went. Miles was no darts champion, but he had gotten a few trebles and even a bullseye by time it was time to leave for the next shift. Julian was less fortuitous, some shots bouncing off, or falling before they hit the board, or plinking into the crates to the sides. Miles was going to have to replicate new darts.

But Julian had stayed strong. He gave Miles a friendly smile and took his defeat with honor.

"You know, Julian, you don't have to let me win," Miles said with a knowing smirk as they packed away the game.

"Chief, don't you think I could have at least made my defeat a little less humiliating?"

Yeah, he supposed. But there was no way Julian Bashir, racquetball champion and bloody surgeon couldn't hit a circle bigger than Quark's head.

"Who knows what goes on in that brain of yours."

* * *

"Chief, do you really think a dartboard is a good idea in Quark's? He's right, you know, you could poke someone's eye out."

"Extra motivation not to go easy on me. These are fragile, living beings, not crates full of stem bolts that you'd be hitting."

Julian looked like he was the one who had just gotten a dart to the chest. "Chief, I don't want that hanging over me!"

"Then don't miss." He offered Julian a dart.

"I know you said you wanted me to wait for the Klingons with you, but I uh, just remembered I need to check on my experiment. It won't take too long, just twenty, maybe forty minutes."

"You can't just bail on me, this is important! Look, I'm sorry, I don't think you're gonna hurt anyone."

Laughter from the upper level cut off the conversation.

* * *

He had finally convinced Julian to another game of darts. Again. Oh, that was weird.

It was just like the first time, Julian shuffling around and moving his arm this way and that to find the best position.

"So you're telling me that you remember playing this game with me in the future?"

"Right."

Julian lowered his arm and looked over at him. "Alright, what am I going to hit?"

Miles smiled, remembering the answer clearly. "20, outer ring."

"Now you're making things up."

"Don't believe me? Try."

Julian bit hit lip and went back to staring down board. He went back to his movements and scrunched up his face. He let the dart fly.

Julian's mouth parted. "Why, that's remarkable."

Miles frowned. Instead of the absolute look of wonderment that had came over Julian the first time around, this time he just looked shocked. Maybe he shouldn't have told him. Wow, nice going Miles, ruin the kid's birthday while you're at it.

"What do I hit next?"

Miles remembered, but he didn't want to spoil any more fun. "Oh, I've forgotten. But I do remember that no one got hit with a flying dart, so you can relax about that."

"Really? Oh, that's great. Maybe a dart board here wasn't such a bad idea."

* * *

Darts games were now a common supplement to the racquetball games and the holonovels, and this one had the benefit of being free. The one thing that didn't change was Julian's abilities. Sure, more often than not, they were landing on the board, and he _had_ managed to hit good spots on occasion, but whenever he did, Miles took it with a grain of salt. Which was a cruel thing to think, but when one dart hit a bullseye and the next nearly hit Morn, it was hard to imagine only one being an accident.

And he still couldn't shake the feeling that Julian was doing all this for his benefit. Julian could win at racquetball, and Miles could win at darts, all was right in the world. For all he knew, Julian was having a good laugh behind his back.

In fact, Miles was sure this was the case when he walked into the bar after a long day fixing EPS conduits and saw a familiar head of hair and blue uniform at the board.

He crept closer, hiding behind a dabo girl cleaning tables.

"Perfect, could you get him?" Miles managed not to jump a foot in the air, but it was a close call. He glared at the barkeep. Quark had a glass and rag in his hand and joined him looking at Julian. "Poor kid's been trying to hit something all night and I feel bad kicking him out."

Miles' face fell. "Nothing all night?"

"He comes in almost every night to do this, didn't you know?"

"No, I didn't."

Quark left and Miles continued forward, coming to a halt hopefully outside Julian's field of view. Just to watch.

Julian must have replicated more darts because about twenty were in the board at the moment, all over the place. He must have thrown his last one (which hit the number 7), because he sighed and moved forward to collect them, picking them off with lethargic plucks. His cheery grin that he kept plastered on when they played and he inevitably lost was nowhere to be found.

Miles backed away and left the bar. Quark was just going to have to kick Julian out himself.

As he walked to his empty quarters, he went over it again in his head. If Julian really had been practicing every night, and still wasn't getting better, what was going on? And how could he make it right? God, he had really messed up, hadn't he? He could recall a dozen times at least when he had not-too-subtly told Julian he could stop faking, or laughed when the dart hit a flashing light, or jokingly went "single 3! You might be pulling ahead, I better check the score."

Because he had thought he and Julian were on the same page!

* * *

Miles watched carefully as Julian lined up for another shot. Single 18, outer ring.

"Nice one!"

Julian glanced over to him. "Thank you… again."

So maybe he had been laying it on a little thick. He had watched his mouth, hadn't made any comments, and made sure to praise anything over a 10. But what else could he do? What else could he do…

It was his turn and he took his time. This could easily backfire.

"Hey Julian?"

"Yes?"

"Would you be alright taking your shots closer to the board?"

He risked a glance at Julian. Oh, wrong thing to say! He tossed his last dart, not caring where it landed.

"Miles, no, it's alright, I'm getting better. Today's just been an off day." Julian was smiling too harshly and his eyes were fixed firmly on Miles' combadge and his arms were held firmly behind his back.

Miles backed up. "Forget I said that. Whose turn is it anyway? Actually, I'm a bit thirsty, want anything?"

The conversation was dropped by time Miles came back with two foaming pints, but for some reason, Miles still felt like he had failed.

* * *

Julian's parents had been a right piece of work. He couldn't believe the terrible, cutting remarks they had made to their 'disappointment of a son' who was about to throw away 'the only chance of amounting to anything in life.'

Julian had made the right choice in sending Dr. Zimmerman away to find a new test subject as soon as he had learned about Zimmerman's gross violation of Julian's privacy. And his parents sure hadn't left quietly. They stormed in to beg their case to the man, and when Zimmerman only reiterated in a bored tone that it wasn't up to him, they poured out their hatred at 'Julian' before storming off.

The only good thing that came of it was that Julian hadn't been around to hear it.

* * *

They were playing darts again. They had stopped for awhile after Miles had stuck his foot in it, but there was still the occasional game.

Julian threw his last dart, hitting twenty outer ring. He scoffed and stared at his score. 54, not bad.

"They wanted me fixed, did you know?"

Miles glanced towards him. "Fixed? Whadya mean?"

"Someone my dad knew. My dad had the appointment set, I was going to _be better_. And then, at the last minute, we didn't catch the shuttle." Julian gave a helpless little laugh.

"Five minutes earlier and I wouldn't exist."

The darts stayed on the board. Miles watched in shock as Julian's eyes filled up with tears.

"He told me the story every second he wasn't pretending I didn't exist. Every bad grade and every time I came home crying because the other kids wouldn't leave me alone. That shuttle. It would have taken us to Adigeon Prime. Where I would have undergone genetic enhancements. Mental abilities were top priority, of course. Hand-eye coordination, reflexes, vision. God knows what else."

"Even though I had to repeat first grade, and the third, and take summer courses while my friends went to swim parks and carnivals, I managed to catch up. And you know what my dad told me when I got accepted to medical school? Because what could show off my success better than becoming a doctor?"

Miles wasn't sure he wanted the answer, but Julian wasn't about to stop now.

"He said that instead of scraping in due to affirmative action, I could have been top of my class!"

Miles would kill that man. Maybe Garak would help. "And now you're the CMO of one of the most important stations in the quadrant."

Julian wiped the tears away with hands pressing into his face. When he finally drew them away, he continued to stare down at them.

"No one else wanted it. Funny, even if I had been valedictorian, I would have chosen this assignment."

"Frontier medicine?"

"Frontier medicine 52 lightyears from Earth."

They both stood there a bit, both lost in their own worlds.

Julian broke the standstill, moving up to collect the darts and offer them to Miles.

Miles looked at them and back at Julian. Then grabbed them and took a good number of steps back, until he couldn't read the numbers on the board.

"Miles, what are you doing?" Julian asked tiredly.

"From now on I'm playing from over here."

"That'll just end up with both of us hitting Morn. And I'm tired of reapplying drywall."

"Well then we'll have to find a place for both of us to stand so we're evenly matched. Come on, Julian, I want this to be fun. And if we never have to reapply drywall again, that would be a plus."

Julian frowned. Miles held up a dart, ready to shoot.

"Wait. What if I… stand closer?"

Miles lowered his arm. "Yeah, that would work too. That alright with you?"

Julian sighed and looked away. "… People will think I'm cheating."

"Not when I still win," he said, aiming for a chuckle. No such luck. "And come on, no one but us ever plays darts, how would they know the rules?"

Miles stepped closer and handed all the darts to Julian. "Here, pick a place to stand."

Julian took the darts and stared at them, then back at the board. With his free hand, he wiped at his nose one last time and started to position himself as he usually did. But this time, he let himself walk backward and forward, eventually settling on about three feet closer than usual. When he hit the inner single 8, he glanced back and gave a small, hesitant smile. "This should be okay."

Miles nodded and clapped him on the shoulder. "Great. You know, let's start over, I'll wipe the score."

They played until Quark came around to usher them out, and Julian won the last one game of the night.

**Author's Note:**

> I welcome any constructive criticism on writing autistic characters, as this is my first time doing so.
> 
> Other than that, I'd love to hear what you thought! <3


End file.
